


Not the Product of a Strong Mind

by RiverTalesien



Category: The 100 (TV), The 100 Series - Kass Morgan, clexa - Fandom
Genre: Clarke's boobs, Clexaweek2019, Do not repost anywhere without permission, F/F, Face-Sitting, Fluff and Smut, Good Earth Cleavage, Mild D/s, Nipples, Oral Sex, Romance, Useless Lesbian Lexa (The 100), clarke isn't a fan of bras in this one, lexa is a boob girl, neither is lexa, they're gonna need a bigger bed, topless beach
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-01
Updated: 2019-03-15
Packaged: 2019-11-07 10:55:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,693
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17959154
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RiverTalesien/pseuds/RiverTalesien
Summary: For Clexaweek2019, day 4 on the theme of "nipples," Lexa is her usual useless self, on a solo vacation at the beach, where she meets artist Clarke, who is also a fan of topless sunbathing.With a cameo by Princess Leia.





	1. Chapter 1

She hadn’t meant to look.

 

They were just…there.

 

The blonde was lying on her back in the sun, skin glistening with a mixture of sweat and sunscreen, eyes protected by a pair of oversized sunglasses. Her lower half was partially covered in a pair of red bikini bottoms tied with bows on each side. Her upper half, however, was naked and free, the most perfectly plumply rounded breasts Lexa had ever seen in her life. 

 

She had chastised herself several times already for staring, that it was rude and objectifying, but some part of her brain refused to cooperate. It only got worse as a slight breeze picked up along the beach and the woman’s breasts began to stir, lightly pimpled with gooseflesh and her nipples went from soft to hard in an instant. It was like watching a painting come to life. All the moisture in her mouth had dried up. Lexa felt mesmerized.

 

“Take a picture. It’ll last longer."

 

Startled by the sound of the woman’s voice, Lexa found herself, not half a second later, face down in the sand castle she’d been building; all that remained was a lonely tower that looked ready to topple at any moment.

 

_Why couldn’t you wear a pair of sunglasses like normal people?_

 

“Aww, that’s a shame. I thought it was pretty cool.”

 

The blonde was sitting up on her elbows now, her generous bosom even more pronounced, and Lexa was spitting sand out of her mouth and trying to look anywhere else. 

 

“I really didn’t mean to, I’m so sorry.” 

 

The other woman flashed her a brilliant smile and took off her glasses. 

 

“If I didn’t want anyone to look, I would have kept covered up.” 

 

Dusting herself off, Lexa sat up and surveyed the wreckage. 

 

“Not going to win first place now.”

 

The blonde sat up further, lifting her sunglasses to the top of her head and crossed her arms around her bare knees. 

 

“Are you one of those pro sand sculpture people? That looked really impressive…while it lasted.” 

 

Lexa shook her head, her eyes carefully lowered to her once-glorious creation.

 

“Just an amateur. Thought I’d enter the competition this year. For fun. Something to do.”

 

“You could always start over,” The blonde’s eyes were twinkling as she gestured around the beach. “I think there’s still lots of sand left.”

 

Lexa stood, some sand still clinging to her khaki’s and t-shirt, her eyes still clinging to the sand. 

 

“No, that took too long. I think I’ve got a book to finish. Sorry I disturbed you.” 

 

Pushing herself to stand, the blonde took up a towel, wrapped herself in it and trudged over to Lexa, who finally looked up.

 

“You didn’t bother me. I’m sorry you’re not going to work on it anymore. It was fun watching you.” 

 

Blushing, Lexa looked down again then gestured to the hotel behind them. 

 

“Well, I’ve been out in the sun a little too long anyway. I better head back inside.” 

 

Clarke held up her hand and turned back to her spot, grabbing a small bag.

 

“Me too. I’ll walk with you if that's ok." 

 

Reaching for her own towel, Lexa nodded. “Sure.”

 

Extending her hand, the blonde’s smile was dazzling. “I’m Clarke, by the way.” 

 

Wiping her hand on the towel, Lexa returned the grasp, nodding. “Lexa.”

 

“Well come on, Lexa. You look famished. I bet the buffet is open.” 

 

Lexa watched for a moment as the blonde turned and started toward the hotel. She looked around her, gazing up and down the beach, wondering what was happening, before breaking into a light sprint to follow.

 

*

The Drop Ship Hotel had an unusual theme for its coastal setting: its interior was designed to resemble that of a “luxurious space liner, drifting through the cosmos” and was, subsequently, a popular tourist spot for scifi fans and held the occasional scifi convention. 

The main entrance was a large replica of the Tardis from Doctor Who; when you entered, the wheezing noise of the time machine would sound throughout the lobby. By the worn expressions of the hotel staff (dressed as USS Enterprise crew members), no one ever got tired of it.

The lobby itself was a mini-science fiction museum with glass cases filled with science fiction memorabilia, including life-size statues of the Xenomorph from Alien, a Predator, a Borg, a pair of Cybermen and a Dalek. 

The interior hotel design itself was exactly as promised: it might have been the sister ship to the Enterprise (2009 version), or something out of Mass Effect. Floors were “decks" and the two restaurants might have been stolen sets from a Star Wars movie. Being served by a stormtrooper or intergalactic bounty hunter was not an unusual occurrence. 

 

Lexa was waiting in the smaller of the two restaurants, which had one section around the bar that made her think of the Restaurant at the end of the Galaxy in that everyone looked bored waiting for The End and the Dish of the Day was happy to introduce itself. Via an animated video feed at your table, of course.

The larger restaurant held the hotel’s infamous buffet, but the crowd had been off-putting, so Lexa and Clarke agreed to meet in the smaller one, and Clarke had gone off to change. 

Preoccupied by the bar menu which offered an actual Pan Galactic Gargle Blaster, Lexa didn’t notice Clarke's approach. 

 

“Hey.”

 

Looking up, Lexa had to blink twice at the smirking woman, blonde hair haloed by the waning afternoon light in the high overhead windows. She now wore a pale blue sundress with thin shoulder straps and, thanks to the restaurant lighting, clearly no bra. 

Left speechless by the outline of pointed nipples and the round fullness through almost sheer lace, Lexa had to force herself to re-focus her vision, pretending, as one does, that something was in her eye. 

“Hi. Oh. Sorry.”

Reaching for a napkin on the table and dunking a corner into her glass of water, Lexa reached up to wipe the “something” from her eye, only to knock her glasses off her face and onto the table…where they bounced just out of reach and onto the floor.

“Shit."

 

Clarke’s smirk was still in place as she leaned to her side to reach for the glasses and Lexa’s face turned various shades of pink as she caught a heavy glimpse of what could only be described as “good Earth cleavage.”

 

“Here you go.” 

 

Clarke’s smile betrayed a little tongue-between-the-teeth as she straightened and found a menu to peruse.

 

“Do we dare try the deep-fried Romulan mollusks? Maybe a little targ and couscous?” 

 

Lexa smiled and shrugged. 

 

“I am partial to a good space waffle.” 

 

Clarke wrinkled her nose at one offering.

 

“Not sure I want to try a Porg chop.” 

 

Adjusting the strap of her dress, Clarke waved for the waiter. Lexa’s eyes kept drifting toward the GEC. 

 

“The Talaxian nips…no, tips, Talaxian tips, maybe?”

 

Clarke peered down at her menu. 

 

“I think that’s a steak.” 

 

Giving Lexa a frankly indecent gaze, Clarke closed her menu.

 

“How do you like yours? Well-done…or juicy and rare?” 

 

Lexa pushed her glasses up her nose.

 

“I definitely prefer a juicy…steak.”

 

Clarke’s tongue poked through her teeth again as she smiled.

“I bet you’re the kind of person who really enjoys digging in and getting all those sweet juices on her chin.” 

 

Lexa wondered if it was possible to melt from sheer desire.

 

“I…enjoy a little mess…but then I also enjoy licking the plate clean, too.” 

 

A cough interrupted them and both women looked up to realize they had an audience…for some time it seemed. 

 

In the back of her mind, Lexa felt a little offended that Princess Leia was taking orders, but the woman’s long-suffering and deeply unimpressed expression told her it might be better not to bring that up. 

 

“Do you two want to order something?” 

 

Clarke smiled and handed over her menu.

 

“I think we’d both like the Talaxian tips, rare and…two Asgardian salad bowls?” Clarke checked with Lexa who nodded in agreement. 

 

“Anything to drink?”

 

“How’s the Klingon blood wine?”

 

“It’s super-sweet cherry Kool-Aid with cherry vodka. It’s disgusting.”

 

“Two of those, please.”

“Coming up.” 

 

With Leia’s departure, the two women were once again alone. 

 

“So. Clarke. What do you do?”

 

“I’m an artist, actually. Well, an illustrator, mostly. I do a lot of this sort of thing…scifi and fantasy work, mostly for books, but occasionally comics and poster art.” 

 

Lexa nodded, impressed. 

 

“Is that why you’re here?”

 

Clarke nodded.

 

“Yup. My best friend, Raven is in charge of IT here and got me a little job doing some of their ads, a few marketing things. We’re kind of geeks together. What about you? What do you do when you’re not building epic sandcastles?”

 

Lexa’s face dropped again as she took a sip of water.

 

“I’m in radio.” 

 

Clarke looked askance for her to continue.

 

“As in…a radio show? Are you a DJ?”

 

“No, not really, I do host a show, but it’s late night, pretty boring.” 

 

Clarke leaned forward, chin resting on her folded hands.

 

“Oh come on, what show?”

 

Still looking a little embarrassed, Lexa cleared her throat.

 

“I doubt you’ve heard of it…The Flamekeeper’s Journal…”

 

Before she could continue, Clarke sat back in her chair and made a noise a bit like a squeaky mouse.

 

“Are you kidding? Oh my god, I thought I recognized your voice! I listen every weekend, I love that show. It’s part of my nighttime routine. Helps me relax. I can’t believe it.” 

 

Lexa’s embarrassment was quickly replaced with a sheepish shrug. 

 

“I’m glad you like. I don’t really get to meet my listeners too often.”

 

Clarke sat up and grew a little more serious.

 

“Oh, I hope this isn’t awkward now, I don’t mean to fangirl or anything. I just can’t believe it. I guess that makes you the Commander, huh?”

 

Lexa expanded her skin tone repertoire to crimson and shook her head. 

 

“That is such a terrible joke. I can’t believe I let Indra get away with that.”

 

“Your co-host? She came up with that nickname? I’ve always wondered why she calls you that.” 

 

“Did you ever watch Star Trek: The Next Generation?”

 

“Sure.”

 

“Commander Riker played the trombone.” 

 

Clarke’s eyebrow went up.

 

“You play the trombone?”

 

Lexa nodded.

 

“I play the trombone.”

 

“And that’s why she calls you Commander?”

 

“That’s why she calls me Commander.”

 

Clarke leaned back and regarded her companion.

 

“Well, I have to admit, that’s not where my imagination had taken me.”

 

Princess Leia returned with two large bowls of salad and an apron full of salad dressings. 

 

“We don’t have honey mustard, so I hope you weren’t hoping for honey mustard.”

 

Clarke looked at Lexa.

 

“Were you hoping for honey mustard?”

 

“No, were you?”

 

“Not really.”

 

Leia regarded them both a swift eye roll.

 

“Lucky for us then. I’ll be back with your tips.”

 

*

Dinner came and went with a blur of curious conversations about Clarke’s art and Lexa’s show, how they decide on topics and musical choices, how Clarke comes up with her ideas. They shared inspirations and favorite films and books. Lexa was delighted to have seen some of Clarke’s art in books she had read. She even asked if she’d care to be a guest sometime. 

 

“I think I might enjoy that.” 

 

“We’d enjoy having you.”

 

Their gazes were more or less in sync now and neither bothered to look up when Leia returned with their bill. Lexa simply told her to put it on her room charges. 

 

“Cool. May the Force be with you. Come again.” 

 

Something about Leia’s delivery suggested they should do anything but. 

 

Clarke gestured at the reddish sky through the windows. 

 

“Care for a little sunset walk on the beach?”

 

Lexa’s eyes drifted (completely of their own accord, she no longer wished to be associated with them) to Clarke’s lower body and she tried to gesture to any part of her companion but her chest.

 

“You might get cold.”

 

Clarke shook her head.

 

“I never do.” 

 

In spite the finer points of her anatomy begging visibly to differ, Lexa simply shrugged and rose, waiting for Clarke to do the same.

 

“Why not? We can work off our nips. I mean tips.” 

 

Lexa’s prayed her inward groan wasn’t audible. 

 

*

 

The beach was surprisingly empty as the sun shimmered along the horizon, casting red and pink blushes across the pale blue of the sky. 

 

“So how did you wind up here alone? Mini-vacation?”

 

Lexa looked over at Clarke who had taken off her sandals to wade barefoot in the withdrawing surf. 

 

“I might be a little bit of a geek. I’d been hearing about this place for ages and yeah, needed a little alone time I guess. It’s been nice.”

 

Clarke kicked at a small stone in the water.

 

“Being alone?”

 

Lexa’s hands were clasped tightly behind her back as she walked and turned to regard Clarke, momentarily taken with the play of light through the golden waves of her hair and the pinkish tint of her skin. And. And. 

Lexa thought she was the most beautiful person she’d ever seen.

 

“Being with you, actually.”

 

Clarke swung her arms around and skipped a head a little, turning her back on the water to face Lexa.

 

“Oh, and here I thought you might be all shy and subtle, but something tells me you’re really not.”

 

Lexa shook her head.

 

“I don’t think shy and subtle really work for you, do they?”

 

Clarke shrugged, half-twirling a little closer.

 

“Depends. Sometimes I really go for those quiet, nerdy types with nice voices and big green eyes.” 

 

In spite of the jelly in her knees, Lexa took a step closer. They were inches apart.

 

“Anything else you might go for?”

 

Clarke reached up for Lexa’s glasses, carefully taking them off, folding them and sliding them in the front of her dress, dragging the already loose neckline down a little further. Then she stepped right into Lexa’s space, running her fingers along her collar, up to her chin, barely a hair’s breadth between them.

 

“Just this.”

 

Lexa felt herself melting into the kiss as Clarke’s mouth met her own, a hint of tongue tracing her bottom lip, more than a hint of teeth nipping at the plump flesh. Gripping the blonde’s hips, she pulled her closer, belly to belly, chest to chest, and held on. 

The kiss deepened, their tongues swirling and drawing on the other, and Lexa thrilled at the way Clarke’s body responded, pressing further, arms wound tightly around her shoulders, fingers gripping the muscles of her back, a quiet hum escaping her throat. 

She arched into the almost painful but playful stab of the blonde’s nipples against her own, so sharp and demanding.

 

Pulling away, Clarke held Lexa's dazed face, offering her a dazzling smile.

 

“I don’t know about you, but I’m getting a little chilly."

 

“I thought you never got cold.”

 

“I may have been lying.”

 

Lexa ran her arms up and down the blonde’s back and hips, her fingers grazing over her shapely bottom.

 

“You might be in luck. My suite just happens to have a fireplace.”

 

Clarke’s mouth latched onto hers, drawing her down, and she responded, lips grazing the blonde’s chin, drifting along her jaw to her ear, nuzzling there.

 

“Will you come to bed with me?”

 

Clarke drew back, the smile in her eyes dimmed, as the sky had grown dark, casting shadows along the beach. She took one of Lexa’s hands, giving it a soft tug, before she stepped forward again, placing her mouth next to Lexa’s ear.

 

“On one condition.”

 

Lexa looked down into dark, hungry eyes, her own hunger pulling at her like a tide.

 

“Anything."

 

Soft lips tickled her jaw.

 

“I come first.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clarke and Lexa go back to Lexa's hotel suite for a passionate encounter.
> 
> This is just smut. With feelings.

The walk back to Lexa’s suite was a blur of Klingons, Cylons and Zygons. There might have been a Vogon. Princess Leia passed by on her way out, cheerfully offering them the finger. They only waved. 

The elevator was the size of a small house and it was only the bellhops carrying a prop replica of the shark from Jaws that kept them separated for the ride. 

 

Once out in the hallway, Clarke nodded to the closing doors. “Not the sort of eaten I’d want to be.” 

 

Lexa smiled at the flirty blonde as she turned on her heel and strode off down the corridor.

 

Lexa’s room was located on Deck 12, a corridor designed to look like the setting for a post-apocalyptic tv show doing its best to rip off Game of Thrones. Clarke had taken off her heels by then and handed them to Lexa, who accepted them with caution.

 

Clarke’s eyes flashed with mischief and her voice was low and rough with lust. “I just wanted to see if you’re a good pet.” 

 

Keeping her smile in check, Lexa tried to look offended, but she was having a hard time staying on her feet. She wanted to crawl to this woman so badly it was making her bones ache. 

 

Lexa’s suite was far less forbidding with its cozy stone fireplace (electric, of course), rustic wooden furniture and the most ornately imposing bed frame Clarke had ever seen.

 

“Jesus, it looks like something out of The Hobbit.”

 

Spinning on her heel, Clarke crawled up onto the bed, settling herself against the pillows with a come-hither stare that sparked every nerve in Lexa’s body. 

 

“I think we can leave the lights off.”

 

Lexa just stared for a moment, the light from the fireplace casting a carnal glow around the room, as she kicked off her own shoes, dropping Clarke’s next to them and approached the bed; she was stopped by a naked foot pressing against her chest. She looked up, confused, heart hammering.

 

“No?” 

 

Clarke smiled, something wicked in her eyes as she stretched like a cat, a movement that drew Lexa’s attention once again to the clear outline of the blonde’s voluptuous and completely mesmerizing bosom. 

 

“Just admiring the view from here. Looks like you are, too.”

 

Feeling a warm flush spread along her neck and cheeks, Lexa’s gaze did not waver as she followed Clarke’s path up the bed, slowing her crawl only to lower herself once she reached the blonde’s hips. 

Leaning back into the pillows, Clarke made her invitation clear as she spread her legs and watched with hooded lids as Lexa settled herself between them, dropping her face to nuzzle at the spot just below her navel. Relaxing further, Clarke folded her arms behind her head, a lazy smile playing across her lips.

Feeling the slow overload of her senses, Lexa did not pause, but went further, nipping at the gather of Clarke’s dress and caught it between her teeth, dragging it up her hips, revealing the lacy blue underwear beneath. 

She nuzzled into the lace, relaxing into the blonde’s delicious scent, and looked up, all her nerves humming with desire. 

 

“Not shy at all, are you?”

 

Lexa blushed again and ducked her head low, running her face in a slow circle around lace-covered lips, pressing firmly into the cleft, losing herself in the heat. 

 

She looked up when she heard Clarke let out a tiny gasp followed by a short laugh. She’d lost her own speech several moments’ back; an eyebrow would have to do.

Clarke shook her head, her smile softening to something close to affectionate.

 

“I don’t know. This just seems…familiar?” 

 

Lexa returned the smile, gently rubbing her chin against lace and found her voice.

 

“Maybe we’ve done this before.”

 

“Maybe we have.”

 

Her face drifting higher along Clarke’s belly, lifting the dress with it, Lexa pressed tender kisses into her skin, swaying back and forth across her ribs, making sure she didn’t miss an inch. A thinning scent of coconut sunscreen and sweat filled her nostrils. She paused and hovered over her ample breasts, dipping her cheeks against them, feather-light kisses over the material, over the sharp points almost piercing through.

 

Across her chest, her collarbones, her neck, her chin, Lexa lingered, until they were face to face, eyes locked, hearts beating like racehorses at the gate. Pressing lips delicately to Clarke’s cheek, she drifted to her ear, her voice barely a whisper.

 

“You’re beautiful.” 

 

Biting her bottom lip, Clarke pushed up, flipping Lexa onto her back and straddled her. She said nothing as she leaned forward, grinding hard, over and over, just a hiss of breath as their eyes met and she opened her mouth, another invitation Lexa could not resist. 

Craning her neck to meet the blonde’s lips, Lexa ached to capture them, but Clarke pulled away, grinning as she sat up, her hips grinding circles into the brunette’s taut belly. 

 

“When I kiss you, I want to taste myself.” 

 

Lexa’s jaw hung slack as she watched the blonde lift her dress over head, her breasts falling free and heavy and if her brain was not already on overload, if her heart wasn’t already hammering out of her chest and if she was not already supine on the bed, she probably would have fallen over in a dead faint.

 

_So. Beautiful._

 

Running her hands over her chest and slowly massaging her nipples, biting at the tiny discomfort of it, Clarke dropped suddenly, raking her bosom over Lexa’s, grinning like a Cheshire Cat.

 

“Are my tits beautiful too?”

 

Lexa could only nod as Clarke inched her way up, pressing her breasts together, then letting them drop, right over Lexa’s mouth. 

She didn’t wait to be told; her head came up like something about to strike and her mouth latched on to one of the dangling beauties, lips pressing tightly to the stiffening bud, sucking there gently. Lexa's hand found motion and fondled the other, squeezing, her mouth sliding back and forth from one nipple to the other, leaving a trail of sticky wetness in its wake.

 

“You are so beautiful. You taste beautiful.” 

 

Clarke hummed in appreciation, eyes closed, pressing herself further, dropping lower so her arms bracketed above Lexa’s head, while she continue to grind herself along Lexa’s stomach. 

 

“Harder.” 

 

Lexa thought she could swallow the woman whole, stuffing as much flesh as she could in her mouth, sucking and licking as if it could satiate the fire that was building from her core and spreading through the rest of her body. She wanted to move, but Clarke’s hips grinding against her kept her still. 

She wanted more arms, she wanted to be two people so she could feel everything, touch everywhere at once, surround the blonde and be surrounded by her. If there were two of her, there had to be four of Clarke, writhing and grinding and moaning and dripping all over her, winding into a perfect oneness. 

 

Clarke’s movements were growing more intense, focused and Lexa upended everything, flipping them again, leaving Clarke hissing in frustration at the loss of contact. She reached up, grabbing Lexa’s face and drew her down to nip at the brunette’s plump lower lip, drawing it into her mouth, biting, teasing. Using the moment to wrap her legs tightly around the other woman, she thrust against her and rolled them over again, lips tracing lips, arms holding tight, every sense flaring, burning with unbridled lust. 

Stroking the blonde’s hips, Lexa grabbed the hem of her panties attempting to pull them down. Clarke’s ragged voice, emptying into her mouth like the slow drip of honey, interrupted her. 

 

“Rip. Just rip.”

 

Lace torn and thrown aside, Lexa’s hands clutched at the clefts of the blonde’s ass, rubbing and reaching, her hand touching wetness, stroking deeper, and Clarke’s moan, swallowed, echoing in her own throat.

 

Pushing up and away, the naked woman had a wild look as she clutched Lexa’s scalp, as she lifted herself upwards, her thighs coming to rest on the brunette’s shoulders. She paused there, looking down the valley of her breasts, the soft plane of her belly, and the soft golden curls to the picture of absolute hunger that lay beneath her: mouth open, pupils blown so wide the green was lost in black. 

Lexa’s hands reached up, wrapping around each thigh to draw her down and the blonde submitted, losing herself as her cunt was surrounded by hot breath, and a thick, wet tongue dragging slowly from her entrance to her clit, lapping there in a steady, heavy circle. 

 

“Fuck.” 

 

She wanted it to last, but she couldn’t it was too sweet, too good and she’d already been on the verge. _So good_. Clarke’s thighs trembled as she let go, escaping into a smooth, wet orgasm, her mouth drawn open into a long but near-silent groan of toe-curling delight. 

 

Thighs pressed tightly on either side of her face, slick covering her mouth and chin, Lexa felt Clarke’s shudders as a part of herself, deep and unrestrained. It was too soon, there had to be more. She reached up, squeezing at the blonde’s breasts, kneading, keeping her anchored, letting her know she didn’t want to stop, hadn’t had her fill. 

 

Rising slightly, Clarke felt herself dragged back down, as Lexa craned her neck to nuzzle between her legs, licking carefully around her lips, dipping into her entrance, avoiding her clit. 

 

Trying to control her breathing, Clarke laughed, a happy sound. “Thirsty much?”

 

“Mmmm.”

 

Relaxing into Lexa’s gentle ministrations, Clarke’s legs felt heavy; she leaned forward, resting against the bed frame, as Lexa’s hands roamed, caressing her thighs, her ass, her breasts. A deep ache started to build again as the other woman’s tongue laved gently over her clit again, circling, drawing her out once more. 

 

“Keep doing that...slow…just like that…”

 

Lexa kept to a leisurely but measured pace, feeling her own body respond with a quiet but insistent pulse of its own. 

 

She wanted to split herself in two, grow a clone, anything, just to be everywhere. While she caressed Clarke’s cunt with her mouth, her other selves would be feathering soft kisses around her beaming face, massaging her back, whispering delicate and dirty things in her ear. Another would leave bright red marks on her neck. Another, suckling desperately at her breasts, watching others stroking her legs and arms, lifting her, floating, feeling her come again and again. 

She wanted to melt and meld and die and be reborn just to drink this woman in, over and over and over. 

 

Her taste was honey-thick, all the flavors of sun and summer and water and sky. She was so high from it, pulling Clarke down further onto her, suspended, cradled in the heavenly join of her thighs.

 

“Sure?"

 

Lexa was doing her best to nod and Clarke sank more, almost her full weight now, and she rocked slightly, Lexa’s tongue like a hot, wet slide.

 

“Fuck me. _Fuck me._ ” 

 

This went on for a few blissful moments when she was startled as Lexa lifted suddenly, forcing her back. Lexa’s body and mouth was on her like a wave and _her tongue_ and her _taste_ and she felt like everything was going too fast and not fast enough. Lexa's jean-clad hips thrust and ground against her, hard, _harder_ and the room kept spinning, dizzyingly out of control. Lexa’s hands were hot on her thighs, spreading her wider, higher, pressing into her, relentless. 

Clarke tensed, blood thundering through her ears as she flooded and came again, soaring. She felt Lexa’s moan of release and relief burning against her throat, flexing and shuddering, and she squeezed hard around the brunette, chasing joyful satisfaction until her limbs finally gave up and out.

 

They lay quiet for several moments, their breathing slowing, growing in sync. Lexa’s lips were gentle against Clarke's ear.

 

“Tell me you want more. Please.” 

 

“I thought beggars got on their knees?”

 

Lifting slightly, Lexa smiled, happy exhaustion on her face, and slid off the blonde, sinking to the floor beside the bed.

 

Clarke felt her cunt pulse with renewed need as she sat up, regarding the woman before her. On slightly shaky legs, she stood and looked down.

 

“We’re gonna need a bigger bed.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you would like more of this story, let me know, otherwise I'll just let it end here. Thanks for reading!

**Author's Note:**

> If you like, just let me know! You can hmu on Tumblr @rivertalesien. 
> 
> Yes, there will be a follow-up chapter. :-)


End file.
